


BULLY TO HELPLESS BABY

by orphan_account



Category: ABDL - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:48:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22961947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A story about a bully who gets forcibly regressed by his mother.
Kudos: 2





	BULLY TO HELPLESS BABY

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this:
> 
> https://abdlstoryforum.info/forum/stories/board-member-stories/completed-stories/5143-bully-turned-into-baby

Donny

I was an 11 year-old bully. It didn’t make any difference if my target was my age older or just two-years-old - if I got a chance to tease, make fun of them or take something I wanted I did it. All the younger kids in my neighborhood were afraid of me. My four-year-old brother Timmy was my main target.

When my brother and I were next to each other we looked alike in size. I was small for my age, just 46" tall and 44 pounds, only two or three inches taller than Timmy, but I was strong and tough. I could take a lot of punches and still not cry - it just made me get madder and I hit back harder. Even the bigger kids respected the way I would fight them.

Mom had strict rules about bedwetting - in order to sleep in a big boy bed wearing regular underwear, you had to stay dry through the night for 21 nights. Timmy, I knew, slept in his crib and didn’t have a big boy bed yet, so he must be wetting his bed. I figured that he was still wetting his pants too, because mom still had stacks of diapers and pull-ups in the nursery. I called him my baby, baby brother, and let everyone know that he still wet his bed and slept in a crib.

Summertime was coming and I would soon be free to tease and bully everyone in the neighborhood. I couldn’t wait.

Mom

I’d been getting concerned about Donny’s behavior. He was growing into a real mean kid, small but vicious. He’d picked on Timmy the whole time I was potty-training him, making the process much harder than it should’ve been. And I’d caught him picking on other kids plenty of times, too, along with his nasty friends. He got it from his father, I knew. I’d hoped that divorcing the asshole and moving away would help him change his ways, but he just made a new set of nasty friends and kept it right up.

The good news was that Timmy was finally starting to make it through the night without wetting his bed. I’d bought him underpants and a toddler bed, just waiting for him to earn the right to use them. When he finally woke up on the 21st morning with a dry pull-up, I knew it was time.

So I invited all his friends over, and while Donny flounced off in a huff grumping about Timmy having a party with all his “baby friends”, I made a big fuss over Timmy’s milestone, letting him unwrap gifts of underpants with his favorite characters on them and letting him help as I set up his new “big boy” bed. His crib would stay, along with a warning - if he wet the bed two nights in a row, he’d be back to pull-ups and sleeping in the crib.

Just in time for supper, Donny came back from playing around the neighborhood. He seemed very surprised, and kind of disappointed, when he saw Timmy getting to bed in a brand new, “big boy” bed instead of his usual crib. I just smiled to myself. If he was surprised by that, wait till he saw what I had planned to fix his behavior.

A few weeks after Timmy moved into his new bed, on the day before school would be out for the summer, I took Timmy and Donny to see the doctor. I told them it was because they’d need a check-up to go to daycare. It was true for Timmy, but in Donny’s case, there was another, secret, reason. I’d mentioned my problems with him to a doctor friend, and he’d proposed that we take him down a peg by getting him put back in diapers.

So, during Donny’s check up, the doctor gave him a shot that made him go to sleep for about an hour or so. That would give them time to do a little outpatient operation while he slept.

The process was a modified form of a bladder stent insertion. According to the doctor, a bladder stent was used for people that couldn’t easily relax one of the two muscles needed to let pee come out of the bladder. Without it, they had to use a catheter to go pee - with the stent when they wanted to go pee all they had to do was concentrate on relaxing the last muscle and their pee would flow. The process was to put a catheter like thing in the patient. The thing had a hard tube to hold the first one of two muscles from closing shut holding pee from coming out. In Donny’s case, however, it was modified a little - adding a longer soft end on the stent that would make the second muscle too weak to hold very much pee.

The process took about 30 to 45 minutes to do. They did it, drained his bladder and redressed him, and he woke up with no idea that they’d done anything to him. When he woke up they said he just passed out for a few minutes from the shot. Timmy was busy playing in the toddler play area until Donny was finished with his exam - I knew he wouldn’t realize the difference between a few minutes and half-an-hour.

Donny

After my shot and exam, it was Timmy’s turn, and I tagged along. Mom talked about Timmy’s recent accomplishment.

“That’s great!” The doctor said. “Now, if he starts wetting his pants again, put him back in diapers, NOT Pull-ups. He is old enough to know better. Keep him wearing diapers only until he proves he wants to be a big boy by keeping his diaper dry. He needs to stay dry for at least two and a half hours - if he fails to stay dry that long just keep him well diapered.”

“Oh, really? You don’t recommend pull-ups?” Mom said.

The doctor said: “There is no need to let a boy wear a pull-up or underwear if he can not hold his pee for two and a half hours. He needs to learn to stay clean and dry like most four and a half year old boys do. If he wants to be a baby, treat him like a little baby with pacifiers, bottles the whole works. When he proves he wants to be a big boy - staying clean and dry - he can use the potty correctly.”

Timmy whimpered. "Me is a big boy not a diaper baby." I was the one that called him diaper boy.

“Yes, honey, you’re a big boy!” Mom said. “I’m sure we won’t have to do any of that!”

On the way home we stopped off at McDonalds to have a small lunch. While I was munching on some French fries and drinking my Coke, I felt my pants get warm and wet in my crotch.

I looked down and was horrified at what I saw. I had a big wet spot in the crotch of my pants! I didn’t even feel the need to go potty and now, I’d wet my pants like Timmy did a few weeks ago!

I knew if Timmy saw my wet pants, he would be telling everyone. I didn’t dare get up and go to the bathroom now, he’d see for sure.

Luckily, I was able to turn away from mom and Timmy on the walk out to the car when we left. Timmy was being strapped in his car seat while I waited on the other side of the car.

When mom closed his door I quickly jumped in my booster seat next to Timmy and fastened my seat belt quickly. I put my hands in my lap to hide the wet spot, noticing with alarm that it seemed to be getting bigger every minute.

When we got home, I was out of the car in a flash, running to my room. I quickly removed my now soaked pants and tried to use the potty, but only a very small amount of pee came out. I put fresh dry clothes on and put my wet underwear and pants far under my bed, where I would take care of them later.

I told mom I was going outside to play with my friends. I ran to the park five blocks away. When I got to the park, I met my buddies and started right away bullying the other smaller kids playing there.

“You can’t play here! You have to go play over there!” I told a boy that looked to be about five or six, as I pointed to the toddler area. “This area is for BIG BOYS ONLY.”

He started giggling. I saw red. I grabbed him and started to push him down on the ground, but his words cut me short. “You need to go play with the babies! You wet your pants like a baby!”

I let him go in surprise, and looked down to see and feel a big wet spot forming in the crotch of my pants again. I tried to cover it, but it was too large.

“BABY DONNY WET HIS PANTS!” Another younger boy, that I’d bullied before, yelled out and pointed at me.

I turned and most of my friends were right there, staring at me. I ran home as fast as I could. I was so embarrassed, I could not get home fast enough.

Timmy was in the yard when I got home. He saw the huge we spot on my wet pants right away, and ran in the house. “Mom! Donny wet his pants!”

I could not hide it now, everyone in the world knew that I had wet my pants like a little baby. I had nowhere to hide or go now, so I slowly walked into the kitchen with my head hung shamefully.  _ What am I going to do now? _ Tears were rolling down my face as I walked into the kitchen.

Mom turned around to see me crying. “Donny, go to the bathroom, take off your wet clothes and take a shower.” I was relieved - I thought she would be really mad and spank me for what I did.

Mom followed me to the bathroom door. “Hand me your wet clothes, I’ll wash them while you’re taking your shower.”

I removed my wet cut-off jeans, underwear, and T shirt, grimacing as I realized I’d even got some on the hem of my shirt. I handed them to mom through the door. “OK, wash yourself real good.” I took my shower, wanting to hide from everyone that knew that I had just wet my pants like a baby.

When I was finished showering, I went to pee in the toilet. As I did, I noticed it seemed unusually easy to start peeing - it was like all I had to do was stop actively trying to hold it back. It wasn’t even that much, but it started as easily as if I’d been desperate to pee.

I finished drying myself off and, wrapped up in a towel, opened the door and slowly walked to my room. In the center of my room, I saw a small pile of pee soaked clothes, and realized both sets of my wet clothes were there. Mom had found my other wet clothes under my bed.

Mom stepped up behind me, and I turned. Timmy was standing at her side, handing her one of his Pull-ups from his room. They were the same ones he wore a few weeks ago. “Donny, you wet your pants twice in the same day. It looks like you need some potty training again.”

“But Mom -”

“No buts!” She cut me off. “You know the rules about pants wetting in my house.” She handed me the pull-up. “By rights, it should be a diaper, since you already wet your pants twice today. But I’m going to let you wear the pull-up instead.”

“But Mom, they’re too small!” I said. “They’re for Timmy!”

“Try them anyway.” Mom said, snatching the towel and leaving me naked.

I slowly pulled the pull-up on. “See, they fit just fine.” She said, and I had to admit she was right. “Now, you know the rules. You’ll have to try keeping it dry, because the next time this happens today, it will be time for a diaper for Donny.”

She led me by the hand to Timmy's room, wearing only the pull-up. I could feel the padding between my legs and hear a slight crinkle. I was led to where Timmy's little training potty was back out of the closet sitting in his room next to his crib. The same little potty Timmy used for his potty training. “OK, sit on it for ten minutes and try to go potty like a big boy should.”

“Mom, I peed in the toilet after my shower.” I said.

“Try again anyway.” She said.

I felt very ashamed as I pulled my Pull-up down a little, and tried to pee standing up.

“Not that way.” She said, turning me around and pulling my pull-up down to my ankles. “Sit.”

I slowly sat down on the little potty with my pull-up at my ankles. Mom fastened the seat belt, so I couldn’t get up, and she and Timmy watched me for a few minutes, then left the room.

Timmy came back in the room and started to play with some toys while I was sitting on the little potty. “I’m a big boy.” He told me. “I don't need pull-ups or that little baby potty.”

I said nothing. I felt so small.

“Pull-ups are big diapers.” Timmy said. “I can use the big boy potty too, not the baby potty like you’re sitting on.”

I realized he was echoing everything I teased him about when he was potty-training. Now, here I sat, where he was three or four weeks ago - wearing pull-ups, getting potty trained.

Ten minutes after mom strapped me on the potty she returned, undoing the strap. “OK, Donny, stand up.” I stood up and she looked in the potty. “Good boy, you went pee!” She handed me a candy and pulled my pull-up back in place. “Go on and play.”

Disbelieving, I looked in the potty. Sure enough, I’d peed. I hadn’t even felt it.

I didn’t want to go outside and face all the kids while wearing my new underwear. Everyone knew about the accident in the park anyway, so I played in the playroom in the basement with Timmy.

Mom walked in the playroom. “OK, Donny, Timmy, it’s potty time, and then you can eat dinner.”

Timmy said: “I don't need the potty, I can hold it.”

Mom looked at me and said: “Looks like Donny needs to lean to hold it like you, Timmy. Look, Timmy, Donny's stars are gone! He must have really soaked his pull-up this time.”

I felt frozen in horror, Timmy’s giggling echoing in my head as mom took my hand and started leading me upstairs. As I walked, I could feel my pull-up sagging and bouncing between my legs. How had I not noticed peeing that much? Mom was right, I had really soaked it.

Mom led me to Timmy’s room, where the changing table was ready for me. I was lifted on to the table with ease and quickness, and Mom put the chest strap across me, holding me down. Mom removed my soaked bloated pull-up by tearing the sides open just like a diaper. I heard it hit the bottom of the empty diaper pail with a thud. Then she used a cold baby wipe and cleaned me off then powdered me good. She grabbed my ankles before I could react and started to lift my bottom up.

I broke, and kicked away knowing what she was going to do. “NO diapers! I’m too big for baby diapers!”

Mom was quick - she had my ankles again before I knew it. She held my bottom in the air and gave me one very hard swat. “Ow!” I started crying. “Please, don’t diaper me.”

“I don’t like to hear crying. Here.” She shoved a pacifier in my mouth. “Keep it there, or I’ll spank you more.”

To my surprise, she then unstrapped me. As I lay there, holding the pacifier in my mouth, she lifted me off of the changing table, sat me on the little potty and strapped me down.

Ten minutes later, my bottom was sore from the spanking followed by the uncomfortable wait on the potty. Out of sheer boredom, I’d started sucking the pacifier.

When Mom returned, I was again surprised to get praised for peeing in the potty, despite no sensation of peeing. But any good feeling I might have got from the praise was dashed when Mom lifted to the changing table and strapped me back down.

She put a Huggies diaper on me, taped it in place in seconds, and started dressing me in a new playsuit I never saw before. It was my size and zipped up the back. “OK, let me finish up, and then you can go to the kitchen.” She said, unstrapping me and helping me up. I waited as she zipped it up, then let me go.

I started to take out the pacifier. “Mom, can I -”

“Keep it in until I say you can take it out!” She barked.

I waddled to the kitchen, sucking my pacifier, feeling the new thicker padding between my legs. Walking down the hall, I could feel my diaper bouncing all the way to the kitchen, and it was dry - what would it feel like wet? Timmy came up behind me and followed me to the kitchen, but mercifully he said nothing about my current predicament.

When I got to the kitchen I started to climb into my booster seat and mom grabbed me from behind. “Oh, no. You know the rules. If you’re wearing diapers, you sit in the baby chair.” She said, and put me in the high chair, then started to fasten a bib around my neck. I wanted to tear it off, but I knew mom would spank me again if I did.

So, I sat there and watched her as she started cutting my food up so small I would not even have to chew it. When she was done, she took out my pacifier and started to feed me like I was a one year old. I did not even need to chew the food. For my desert she fed me a large bowl of baby food pears. 

When dinner was over, mom wiped my face, even though it wasn’t messy. She glanced at my crotch. “Uh oh, looks like Baby Donny is wet again!”

Timmy just giggled. “Not again!” I used to say that when he was wetting his pull-ups all the time. 

Mom changed my wet diaper again. I protested when she brought out a new diaper. “Look, Donny, until you can keep your diaper dry for two hours like the doctor said, you’re staying in diapers.” She said. “Also, I called the daycare, and they said they don’t allow diaper wearing kids outside of the toddler area, so you’ll be in Timmy’s class when it starts.”

She let me up and I headed off. I really did not want to go outside and face the kids wearing my diapers. Even if I had been wearing underwear, they had all seen me with wet pants on and they would know.

For the rest of the evening I played with Timmy, trying to hold my pee as hard as I could. I thought I was doing OK, until Mom told us it was bedtime and I stood up and realized my diaper was soaked.

Mom changed me again, and this time she put a thicker night diaper on me. She zipped me into a one piece sleeper pajama that zipped up the back. “We’ll go to the doctor tomorrow to see why you have started wetting your pants so much, maybe he can help.” She said, setting me in Timmy's old crib. “You have to sleep here until you stop wetting yourself so much.”

I watched her tuck Timmy in his new big boy toddler bed. She gave him his night bottle - that was the only bottle he wanted. “Mom, I’m thirsty too. I want to get up and out of this baby bed.”

“Stay in your crib, Donny. I’ll get you a drink.” Mom told me, and left the room, returning a few minutes later with a bottle for me.

"NO!” I told her. “I want to get out of this baby bed."

“If you’re thirsty, drink the bottle.” She held it to my mouth, then pulled it away. “Or we can leave it until tomorrow morning. What do you want?” She put it to my mouth and pulled away a few times, until I gave up and started sucking it. She let me take it from her and turned out the lights.

As soon as she was gone, I tried to remove the nipple to drink it like a big boy, but I could not unscrew the cap. Finally, I laid my head back down and continued to suck my bottle, looking through the crib bars. I was going to try to escape the crib when I finished the bottle, but I was asleep in a few minutes, still sucking my bottle.

The next morning I was awoken by mom trying to change my wet night diaper. I had wet my night diaper big time. Even with my thicker night diaper, my pajamas, sheets and everything I was sleeping with was soaked. My diaper was overfilled and leaking all over the place.

“Oh, wow, you really made a mess, didn’t you?” Mom commented, and removed my pajamas, lifting me to the changing table. She put the pacifier in my mouth, and I obediently started sucking.

As I lay there, strapped down, I watched as Timmy woke up, got out of his bed and ran to the bathroom in our bedroom. I could see Timmy as he stepped onto the little stool in front of the toilet, pulled down his pajamas and underwear and sat on the big toilet. Timmy let a long pee into the toilet, sat there a few minutes, and then he wiped his bottom off with toilet paper and flushed the toilet just as Mom finished removing my diaper.

“Wash your hands, Timmy, while Donny takes his turn to try using the potty like a big boy.” Mom said.

Timmy watched me get strapped on the little potty naked, just like when he was learning to use the potty. Mom went back to the changing table to get a fresh diaper ready for me to wear.

I tried to go potty, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t. “Go potty, Donny! Be a big boy not a little baby.” Timmy said. I used to say that to him when he was going through his potty training.

Mom had my diaper ready for me ten minutes later so she removed me from the potty chair. I was on my back still sucking my pacifier looking at the ceiling. Mom finished powdering my crotch. She lifted my bottom off the table by holding my ankles in the air, then she put the fresh diaper under my bottom and let my bottom down. Mom quickly pulled the thick diaper up between my legs fastened the taps to the front of the diaper finishing my diapering. “Timmy, you’re my BIG BOY NOW.”

Mom took me off the changing table, put my feet on the floor then grabbed my hand and started to lead me waddling to the kitchen. As I walked down the hall I could hear my diaper crinkle loudly with every step. The padding between my legs caused me to do a baby waddle, just like I saw Timmy do many times.

I often wondered what it was like to wear thick diapers and walk funny. Now I know what it was like - I could feel my diaper bounce with every shuffled step. I didn't remember Timmy's diaper making this much noise.

Mom sat me in the highchair again just like last night. Timmy was sitting in his booster seat, waiting eagerly to get his bowl of cereal and glass of milk. Mom set it before him, then started tying a bib around my neck. “Mom, can I feed myself?” I asked as she grabbed the spoon.

“OK, but you need to eat it all.” She said, setting the bowl and spoon in front of me. My breakfast was baby food oatmeal and I did love oatmeal but this oatmeal was almost like pudding.

When I finished eating my oatmeal, mom handed me a large sippy cup of milk saying to finish it so we would go potty. I drank it, trying my best to hold my pee in, but I could feel that it was already very wet.

After my change and ten minute potty time, mom told me to go outside and play with Timmy in the backyard.

I knew when I was in my backyard, I could not be seen because of the privacy fence all the way around my yard, but even so, being outside wearing only a diaper made me feel insecure at first.

I played around the yard and soon forgot about wearing only a diaper. I was starting to have fun, and for once, I wasn’t teasing Timmy about something - I was playing with him. Then I heard mom calling from the porch.

Mom was on the porch with a diaper in her hand, calling my name to come get a change. I was embarrassed, hoping no one would hear her as I slowly waddled over to her, feeling my wet diaper sagging between my legs. Mom made me lie on the changing pad she had on the porch. She quickly changed my very wet diaper just like I had seen her do with Timmy many, many times. “OK, that’s done. Timmy, want to help get Donny dressed? We need to take him to the doctor because he keeps wetting himself.”

“Mom, I can dress myself!” I protested, but she swatted me on the butt, and Timmy started putting a T shirt on me. I glanced down and frowned at the babyish design - it showed Oscar the grouch holding a pacifier up and saying ‘need to be quiet’. Then mom started snapping snaps in the crotch of the T shirt, and I realized it wasn’t actually a T shirt, it was a onesie.

Next, Timmy put my feet in the legs of a short-all. Mom pulled my short-all all the way on and snapped the snaps closed in the back. Then she put my socks and shoes on my feet and we were on our way to see the doctor again.

Mom

As the boys hurried to the car, I caught Donny by the door and plopped him, startled and dismayed, in Timmy’s car seat, strapping him in despite his protests. “Timmy, you take the booster seat this time.”

I got in the driver’s seat, smiling as I saw Donny trying and failing to reach the releases on the car seat. I’d specifically chosen a design that didn’t allow the child to undo the snaps themselves. “For safety”, the company advertised, but it was also a good way to teach a lesson. It was only fifteen minutes to the doctor’s office, anyway.

Most of the other kids in the waiting room today were toddlers. Donny sat very quietly, seeming not to want to draw attention to himself. A good change from before, when he’d probably have waited until no one was looking and punched one of the little ones or stolen their toy.

“Donny?” The nurse called, and we headed in.

We dropped Timmy off at the play area next to the reception nurse. Donny and I went into the examination room and the nurse told me to remove his clothes. Donny flushed, but he knew better than to resist as I stripped his short-all and onesie, revealing his very wet diaper.

“Take the diaper off, too.” The nurse said. “He can sit on this pad, and you can dispose of it here.” She indicated the bio waste bin.

Donny was naked, sitting on a pad, waiting on the doctor when the nurse gave him a shot and out he went again. While he was out the doctor repositioned the stent to allow him to be able to hold more than the one ounce of pee he was holding. Then he put a similar but much larger stent in Donny’s anus, making it very difficult for him to hold his poop very long. He was now very diaper dependant, like a newborn baby. They also prescribed me muscle relaxants to make him easier to control and keep him going in his diaper.

They redressed him and carried him to the car, and we were almost home when Donny woke up.

Donny

I awoke confused, not realizing I’d fallen asleep until I suddenly found myself in the car pulling into our driveway instead of at the doctor’s office. I shifted and felt something sticky in my diaper, and Tommy held his nose. “Mommy, Donny is a real diaper baby! He pees and even poops his diaper! More than I did when I was a baby!”

“From what the doctor told me, all Donny needs to do is try a little harder.” Mom said. “There’s nothing wrong with him, he just wants to be a baby right now.” She parked the car and helped me out. “But the doctor did prescribe drugs to help you, Donny, just in case.”

She took me in and gave me a bath, and then we went to bed. Once again, I was stuck in the crib, watching Timmy sleep in his big boy bed.

The next morning, Mom let me feed myself again - another bowl of oatmeal. I was half-way finished with my oatmeal when the sudden need to poop came to me. “Mom, can I go potty?”

“You just got off the potty five minutes ago!” Mom told me. “Eat your breakfast first.”

I suddenly felt my diaper get warm from pee coming out. Even though I was trying as hard as I could to hold it in, I was still wetting my pants. And more would be coming if I didn’t get out of here soon.

“Mom, I need the potty badly! It’s poop, not pee!”

“Hold it like a big boy.” Mom replied.

That was not what I wanted to hear. I started to wiggle and squirm as I ate my oatmeal faster. 

When I finished eating, mom handed me a large sippy cup of milk. “Finish it, and we’ll go potty.”

I tried so hard to hold it, but I couldn’t. Just before I finished my milk, I felt soft warm poop was slipping out of my butt all at once. It felt real bad, sick and disgusting. It smelled horrible, and whenever I moved a little it squished up between my legs and the back of my butt.

“I smell a poopy diaper!” Timmy said. The same thing I would say to him when he was the diapered one.

“Mom, make him stop teasing me! I can't help it!”

Mom put a pacifier into my mouth and said: "Stop whining like a baby." Then she turned to Timmy. “Baby Donny can't help it. From now on, little Donny is a helpless baby. He needs diapers until we can potty train him to be a big boy, like you.” She said, then added: “I have a job for you, Timmy. Can you help me keep an eye on Donny's diaper, and tell me when he needs it changed?”

And then Mom led me to the nursery to change my wet and messy diaper. She had me on the changing table so fast, and my messy bottom cleaned off. I was back sitting on the potty for my ten minute potty time, and afterwards mom diapered me again. She told me to go outside and play with Timmy in the backyard.

Just before lunch I felt the need to poop again. I started to run to the house before I had another accident, but as I got to the back porch steps, I felt a load of poop slip out into my soggy diaper. I stopped and turned around and looked back to Timmy playing having fun on the sliding board.

I knew I had just put a load of poop in my wet diaper. I really did not want to face mom with a messy diaper right now, and I knew I could not hide it. So I waddled back to join Timmy going down the slide.

After twenty minutes playing with Timmy, he said: “Donny you stinky! You need a diaper change!” Timmy grabbed my hand and started dragging me to the house. “Mom, Donny has stinky in his diaper!” He yelled, and I cringed, hoping no one would hear.

Mom looked down at me and said: “Looks like Donny is going to be diapered for a long time, now that he can't even hold his poop.”

“Mom, it was an accident! It won’t happen again!” I cried, but I could tell she seemed skeptical as she led me to the nursery and with Timmy's help changed my wet and messy diaper.

“I think we need to give you a bath after we get this poop off your butt.” She said. “Timmy, wipe his butt while I get the bath water started.” I struggled against the strap, feeling so ashamed.

My life continued on like this. I was now wetting and messing my diaper just like a one-year-old baby. If I ate or drank something, then something was going to be put into my diaper. At first, I’d feel the need to poop but not be able to hold it back in time, but after awhile, I stopped feeling it. I’d just be surprised when it suddenly came out.

At daycare, I did not want to be playing with boys my age, so I played with baby toys. When playing with baby toys, I did not have to stand and walk around too much, showing everyone I was still in diapers.

After six months of going to the daycare, things were getting better. No one teased me any more, they just considered me to be one of the babies. I started to walk around the room more, and play with the ride on toys. I found that I liked the big spring horse, especially when I had a big mess in my diaper. That trick always got me punished in the playpen.

Mom

After one year of this treatment, Donny turned twelve, so I took him back to the doctor where they knocked him out again and removed both stents. He was still on the drugs for the next three months. I asked when we should stop this treatment. “Well, judging from his rate of bone development, he’ll probably start puberty late, around fifteen. That might be a good time to potty train him - before he starts getting hair down there, and it gets harder to keep him clean.”

Donny

Three months after I turned twelve, I started to feel the need to pee again, but was unable to hold it very long. Soon after, I started feeling the need to poop again, but was unable to hold it long enough to get someone to take me to the potty. I still had accidents, just like a beginner at potty training does.

Six months after that, I had the potty training of an eighteen month old. I had grown quite a lot since my first diaper, so mom had to buy me larger youth sized diapers now, but they looked and worked the same as baby diapers except much larger.

By the time I turned thirteen, I was starting to be able to hold my poop most of the time, but accidents were common, at least once a week. I could hold my pee for two and a half hours to start potty training. I was still soaking my bed every night, so the crib was still all mine. It had a twin sized mattress, so I would never outgrow it.

I had been around kids younger than five years old for the last two years. They never made fun of things like pacifiers, diapers, baby clothes, or crying. Those were part of everyone's life in daycare.

I now liked to suck my pacifier most of the time. It relaxed me. I also liked to take a night bottle to go to sleep. Meanwhile, Timmy stopped taking his night bottle shortly after I started wearing diapers. He was the one that put my bottle in my mouth after mom put me in my crib. Timmy's bedtime was one hour after mine.

Timmy was ten times more mature than I was. He didn't cry from being teased, he knew how to come back at a bully. I cried when other kids - most of them just three or four years old - teased me about my diaper wearing. In nursery school, all I did was play in the playpen alone or with other babies that couldn’t talk or play very well.

I did go to a little room with a highchair to be tutored every day for three hours during naptime. It was there that I got schooling, and was told that if I was to return to school, I would’ve been going to the twelfth grade because I passed all the tests for my school work. I even took another test for college entrance and passed with high marks. However, socially I was not much more than a two-year-old - not potty trained yet.

They told me I need to get my potty training up to where Timmy's was two years ago. When I can do that, they told me, I could start going to preschool to get fully potty trained and socialized to be a real big boy.

I knew my social life was over with my old friends - they’d never accept me now that I was wearing diapers all the time at the age of thirteen. It came as a relief when my tutor told me that I’d never need to go to school again - the tests I took last week got me my high school diploma. School work at nursery school was the only thing that I enjoyed. I was a big boy there, even though I was strapped into a highchair, wearing a thick diaper so I didn’t need potty breaks.

Having so many accidents in my diapers was causing me problems. They told me in preschool, I would not be allowed to use the potty until it was potty time. Even though I was a head and a half taller than the tallest kids in the room.

Wearing diapers gave the pull-up wearing babies something to tease me about. I knew I was going to have to work it out. I wished I could remember how to be a bully again, but I’d lost a lot of strength. Still, every day I got stronger, and soon I would be strong enough to fight back. The problem was if I hit someone, I would spend a month back in the baby class where I wouldl sit in a walker or playpen alone. I would get fed in a highchair and that would be all I would be allowed to do for the whole month. So I would never hit.

I hadn’t hit puberty yet but it will happen soon, from what the doctor told mom. Then I would start to grow and need to learn to care for my own diapers. I had my diapers changed by someone for three years - Timmy is the best diaper changer, because he never says a word, he just does the job. I had one of my messiest diapers ever last week, and he just cleaned me up and had me comforted with a pacifier in my mouth. I felt so ashamed of the mess, but I could not make it to the potty in time. I really did try hard, but accidents happen when you are potty training a beginner.

MAYBE SOON I WILL BE A BIG BOY AGAIN?????

BUT NOT YET!!!


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